Te Araroa Archives - Melly Takes a Walk

Te Araroa – Part Two

The 42 Traverse

Taumarunui was a great place to have a rest. A former timber town, the buildings were old and graceful, a mix of art deco and heritage style.

Plans were made for the upcoming seven days which would encompass the 42 Traverse and iconic Round the Mountain track within the Tongariro National Park. It was quite a struggle to get everything lined up, with huts and camping areas already completely booked up, organising the correct sequence of availability took some effort.

Aubs, for his part, snavelled us a ride to Owhango at 9am with a young lad named Luke…the son of the woman who works at the Outdoor Store. He really has a knack for this. No road walking for us!

So, at around 9.30am we arrived at Owhango. We were dropped off at the canoe centre, where the trail notes had said we were welcome to pitch our tents. An employee, Jacob, told us to pitch anywhere and welcomed us to use the indoor facilities.

With tents set up, we wandered to the local cafe, followed by a quick walk through the local reserve. The reserve was really lovely, with huge trees and river frontage. We watched a family of Whio, an endemic and rare New Zealand duck, training fat, little ducklings to swim upriver. These ducks are rapid river specialists and the most powerful duck swimmers in the world. They number less than 2500, and conservation options are limited because of their specialist habitat. It was fascinating to watch the group learning together.

Back at the canoe facility, Aubs met another employee, who basically said, “The place is yours for the night. Call this number if there is a burglary attempt”. The doors were left open for us. No further tempting was necessary. Tents were packed up, and inside we went.

Inside, we had full range through an old hotel, the beds still unmade after guests had stayed, and food sitting in the kitchen uneaten. I decided to stay in “Dave’s” room, and rolled my sleeping bag out onto the top of the doona. It was…a little creepy. Big, old creaky corridors and the ghosts of peoples past inhabited the space. Quite literally.

Dave’s room, where I slept. His name was written on a whiteboard on the door.

I didn’t sleep well, wracking and rolling with nightmares, and an uneasy feeling regarding bed bug possibilities. The night passed without incident however. No burglaries to report.

The 42 Traverse had been both intimidating and fascinating me. A strange name, but it turned out to be a very straightforward hike up and along a mountainous ridge.

The official “selfie spot” for the 42 Traverse

Road to the start of the trail (which we walked!)

The river crossings were the standout features of the hike, the water clear and crisp. We camped near one such creek, and both braved the cold to bathe and gasp in the waters freezing grip.

I suspect we were very lucky that the area has been in drought. In different conditions, the 42 Traverse would have been a mud soaked, slippery hellhole. The ground on this occassion was fairly firm, and the mud puddles easy to navigate.

Once on the road, we had decided we would try and hitch the 6km to the caravan park (no road walking for us!) The first person to come along picked us up and drove us to the front door. I could definitely get used to this!

As a result of the bookings, we have an enforced rest at the caravan park for an extra day, before we can commence the Round the Mountain track. I’ve spoilt myself with an ensuite cabin. There is nothing to do except read my book and rest. Perfect.

First little glimpses of Mt Ngauruhoe (Mt Doom from the movies) and Mt Ruapehu. There is still quite a lot of snow on the later! We will walk around Mt Ruapehu on the Round the Mountain track.

Te Araroa – Part Two

Reaching the End of the Timber Trail

The final day of the 85km long Timber Trail. It felt quite reverent walking through the glow worm chasm of last night. Beautiful, but ordinary in the day, compared to the bewitching lights of night.

Was very lucky to see three Kereru wood pidgeons

I reach the last of the suspension bridges and continue on. The pack feels good, and I am just cruising. Another few kilometres and I arrive at the famous spiral staircase. One of only 11 examples of railway spirals worldwide, the spiral staircase allowed trains to move effectively up very steep slopes.

Over a bridge, circling down and around and through a long, deep tunnel before emerging on the other side. Still quite spectacular today, all these years on.

A long, non-stop walk through a dangerous boulder area before being deposited at a road. That was essentially the end of the Timber Trail. From here, the trail travelled through highly damaged farmland. The adjacent creek choking in wild blackberry and weeping willows. Quick and painless walking, but not pretty.

Arriving at the campsite situated at the end of the trail, I was in the process of putting the tent up when Aubs arrived. “Wait! Wait! It’s just a long, boring road walk into town morla. If I can secure a ride, will you take it?”

Too right I will.

Aubs goes to work, and has soon successfully negotiated a ride into Taumuranui with Pete, owner of Epic Bike tours. We are riding with a girl who started the TA in early September, and rode the Timber Trail section. It was great to talk to her about our differing experiences in relation to the trail.

So, as luck would have it, a glass of wine is had with a meal at the local RSL, before snuggling down into a lovely, comfortable bed.

Te Araroa – Part Two

On the Timber Trail to #10 Camp

It was a VERY cold start to the morning. Frost, an icy blanket across the ground. Frozen zippers on the tent. Frosty breath as we pack our tents, fingers numb.

A longer hike today. We have been averaging around 22km, but today, that will spike to 27km. Luckily for us, much of it will be downhill.

It turns out to be a great day of hiking. The sun is glorious, the trail varied and interesting. We go through old and new growth forests; deeply cut crevices that are markedly cooler and full of fern life; swinging suspension bridges; and, the historical remnants of the timber milling past. The only difficulty is dodging the many bike riders that come flying through!

Just after this photo, I was almost hit by an incredibly slow moving rider (going uphill) who was trying to figure out her e-bike buttons. The distraction of me, proved too much.

The longest of the suspension bridges. There was a great sign that explained exactly how they are built. This one took 6 months.

Eventually, we arrive at camp which consists of a small patch of grass, a three sided shelter, rather fancy long drop toilet (which has both toilet paper and deodoriser inside!) and a sign which says “water collection point”.

We go to the water collection point and stare. It is stagnant. The water clearish…but not moving. Insects buzzing around in and on the water, and mossy algae growing off the submerged sticks. You can almost taste the sickness, just looking at it.

We decide to go for a walk and see if we can find something fresher. Not far from camp, success! A rapidly running waterfall. The only problem, a tricky little platform to fill the bottles from. Aubs is game. We grab all the water carrying vessels we have and head back to the stream.

Things are going well. A couple of bottles are full. When suddenly….snap! The tiny, dead stalk of a stick that Aubs has been holding for balance breaks…and down Aubs goes into the water. He’s wearing his warm weather gear, thermal pants and socks, and he is oh so stoic about this sudden proliferation of water. Brave trooper that he is, he continues to fill the containers until there is nothing more to fill.

Over the course of the afternoon, I had mentioned to Aubs that I thought the cut out crevices might be perfect for glow worms. Imagine my excitement, when on my traditional wind down walk I came across a sign, not far from camp that said “Flash Maggots” with a description of glow worm ecology. You can’t miss that opportunity.

We sat up late, pacing and waiting until 8pm, before venturing out, torches in hand. We reached the cutting and tentatively stepped in. “There!” A brightly glowing speck. “And there!” Another one. We reach the end of the cutting and decide to wait another 15 minutes, knowing it would be really dark by then.

So magical. The whole cutting was lit up. Little sparklers everywhere. The moon was high above and shining directly into the crevice making intricate light patterns on the rock. We slowly did two laps of the crevice, our own private, extraordinary show. It doesn’t get much better than this.

Te Araroa – Part Two

On the Timber Trail to Piropiro Camp

It was a cold, cold night. But I’ve had worse. There is always that to fall back on.

The trail today was pleasant. Relatively easy walking, looping in and out of old and new and medium growth forests. Much of the walk looked like what I would describe as “fire trail” in Australia. Not awesome, but not bad either.

The absolute highlight of the day were the amazing suspension bridges. Rounding the corner to see these spiderweb style structures spanning across a formidable expanse of bushland, high above the canopy, was a sight to behold.

Even without a fear of heights, the heartbeat raced, stepping out towards the middle. A slight feeling of quesiness, or seasickness, as the bridge rocked from side to side with each step. I don’t know how they make them, but kudos to whoever did.

Piropiro Campsite is a large, flat reserve. All campers are around the edge, like some strange version of duck, duck, goose. These people look like they would like a little duck, duck, goose with their camo and guns and little ATV’s. It is a camp for hunters, so it seems.

I’m feeling quite stiff and sore this afternoon. The sun has been golden though, chasing away the cool of this morning, and inviting birds to sing their songs. I have already heard a Kakariki…now, just to spot one!

Te Araroa – Part Two

On the Timber Trail to Bog Inn Hut.

Come on. There’s a joke or two to be made there. You know it and I know it. Let’s move on.

The day dawned nice and clear. No more rain. Aubs and I had had a fairly “strong” discussion the night before around our holiday expectations. The message was clear. The “you do you” mentality should be the guiding light in order for us both to enjoy our break. A kind of “see you when I see you” thing.

In the spirit of that, I packed and left when I was ready in the happy knowledge that I was likely to see Aubs at the accommodation later that day.

The walk was pretty spectacular, the gradual uphill gradient winding through virgin forest. Every tree sticky with epiphytes all along the massive stems. A highlight was watching a group of the large parrots, kakas, shouting into the treetops, buzzing and divebombing each other.

The track was bicycle ride pleasant. Single, stony and no mud. It felt great to be able to sail along at a fairly rapid rate. I arrived at a little shelter hut and spied….no, it can’t be….nooooo. But it is! I nab my prize and put it in my bag. Chasse on.

The TA path leaves the main cycle route to climb to the peak of Pureora Mountain. This feels much more like the true TA. Muddy, overgrown, tree roots, erosion. At the top is bitterly cold. I snap a few photos of the amazing view, including the revered Lake Taupo, before bunkering down for a break.

A TA sign at the start of the journey off the mountain did not bode well “This track is no longer maintained by DOC”. Sounds like it’s going to be very pleasant! Luckily, it doesn’t last long and I am soon back on the bicycle highway.

Digs tonight is the rather salubrious sounding Bog Inn Hut, just a couple of km of TA style track off the Timber Trail. Built in the 1960’s it was a cute little four bed situation with table, washing up sink and an old iron fireplace. I was more interested in setting up in the magical fairy glade out the back. Before long, home was ready.

Aubs had arrived at this point, with both of us confirming that it was “fucking cold!”. This was a night for every layer of clothing that had been carried thus far, and a strong reminder that we were up in the alpine region. Not to be trifled with.

As dinner preparations got underway,I casually said to Aubs, “Guess what I found today!”

What?

This! And I flourished the sachet of tuna I had fortuitously come across.

“You are KIDDING me!” said a disbelieving Aubs. Both of us had searched high and low for any such sachets of tuna back in Te Kuiti, without luck. What have I said before. The trail always provides. And, you just have to get lucky sometimes.

Te Araroa – Part Two

Logistics, logistics, logistics

A short note to explain what has been happening over the last few days!

Firstly, the time in Waitomo was excellent. It’s a sleepy little town with a couple of cafes (if they are open), no groceries and a lovely, traditional pub serving up hot stone grill amongst other fare. Overlooking the town is an archaic white building which in its time has served as a boarding school, tuberculosis hospital and fancy hotel.

The obvious highlight of my stay was a trip to the famous Waitomo Glowworm caves. It was an absolutely magical experience descending into a huge, limestone white cave. It was very dimly lit, so encouraged a sense of danger and adventure as you travelled deeper within.

The excellent tour culminated in a boat ride into the depths of the caves which was unbelievably beautiful. A policy of no photos bought a sense of stillness and quiet to the boatload of visitors, the only noise the lapping of the water on the boat as we gazed up into a vast miasma of stars twinkling across the ceiling. Like being in the depths of the Milky Way. It was spectacular. Nature really is an incredible thing. And beautifully preserved and shared by the traditional owners of these lands.

As I have said, Aubs has had a tonne of trouble accessing his money and bank accounts since we arrived in the country. As a result, he proposed a scenario whereby we would skip the walk to Te Kuiti (consisting of farmlands), try to get a ride, and thereby give himself a chance to get all the banking stuff sorted in town. On the back of my sickness, I was happy to agree.

How to get there though? A fortuitous trip to the Visitor Centre provided the answer when, on hearing of our conundrum, a legendary staff member said she would give us a ride the next day. So great when a plan comes together because of generous people!

The following day, true to her word, Aquarius (what a name!) motored up right on time, saddled up our bags, and drove us into town. What a legend.

Over breakfast, a secondary plan was hatched. Looking at the notes for the upcoming section had revealed a further lambing closure (take note me!) which would result in another long, dangerous road walk. Even the trail notes suggested trying to avoid that stretch of road, or at least wear a high vis vest. Without high vis vests in our packs, we were screwed! Additionally, the forecast was looking decidedly grim, with light rain predicted all the following day, and heavy rain (up to 50mm) following that.

No thanks. I’m not here to see the sights from NZ’s highways whilst it’s pissing down with rain and logging trucks are rumbling past. As chief organiser, Aubs rang a trail angel who agreed to take us out to the start of the Timber Trail and the Pureora cabins, where we would base ourselves for two nights to avoid both the rain and the roads.

Taken on a short bushwalk near the cabins during a period of dodging showers

So, here I am. Cozy and warm. I have a little cabin all to myself, oil heater ticking away, whilst I stare out the window at the lashing rain, curled up in my sleeping bag, book by my side. After all this time, perhaps I have learnt a thing or two after all…

Te Araroa – Part Two

A trek. An ex. What could possibly go wrong…..

Hello! I am writing to you from the Waitomo caravan park, approximately 130km down the trail from Hamilton. It’s been a fairly torrid start to this, the second run at the Te Aroroa trail…I guess it was never going to be easy!

To put all of this in context, Aubs and I, back when we were partners, commenced the trail at Cape Reinga and section hiked to Auckland. That was five years ago. Much has changed in that time, and much has stayed the same. When I got back from the Scotland trip last year, Aubs asked if I would be keen to continue on with the TA. It sounded half mad…but we had been friends for the last four years, so sure, why not?

The plan was to meet in Brisbane, at the airport and travel to Auckland. From there, we would catch the bus to Hamilton, having decided to skip the laborious task of hiking from city to city through dreary suburbs and industrial wastelands.

The plan went off without a hitch and we soon found ourselves camped up in an urban caravan park excitedly purchasing and planning for the first stage of the hike. Crazily, the receptionist at the caravan park was from Norfolk Island!

The following day we braved the cold and got underway – destination Whatawhata – and what would turn out to be about a 20km journey.

Essentially, this was a trip through the outer suburbs of Hamilton along various roadways until we reached a particularly nice viewing area. Greenery and mountains were spread out before us, giving a glimpse into the landscape that we would be getting familiar with over the coming days.

Eventually we arrived in Whatawhata and were greeted by the friendly locals. One fellow, sucking on an icecream, informed us we were welcome to park up in his backyard. We just needed to let him know so he could leave his electric gate open. Despite the kind offer, we stuck with our original plan, which was to ask at the Whatawhata cafe.

The very jolly owner, already knocked off for the day and sipping a Bacardi and coke was delighted to see us! A couple of the first walkers through for the year! We were welcome to find a patch of grass out the back, in between tables, and pitch our tents. Welcome to use the cold, filtered water. Welcome to use the toilets for the night. Sorry there is no shower. Here, use this jug, that’ll make things easier for cooking. I’m sorry I didn’t catch her name. She was really so accommodating and welcoming. What a boon for the trail.

The following day is a little bit….crazy. It starts off fine, with a slightly overgrown and weedy, but pleasant enough walk alongside a murky, brown river. The sun shining off its surface.

Aubs has had trouble with accessing his money since arriving in NZ, and, I think it is probably fair to say, that we are still “adapting” to each others vastly differing communication and hiking styles. Aubs decided to pull up stumps for a minute to talk to the bank (again!), so I decided to keep on going, knowing that we would catch up a little further down the track.

I crossed a bridge, wary of the reports that the next section was heavily overgrown and a nightmare to walk. To my delight, it was obvious that a trail angel had been through recently with the snippers and spray, so the track was clear and relatively pain free. Happy days. I consulted my app, crossed the highway and started along the road towards the next section of the trail. Before too long, I began to climb. Up and up, the views becoming better and better. A message from Aubs:

Where are you?

Just past the quarry. Get ready for a hill climb!

Up and up and up I go. I take a photo and notice three missed calls from Aubs and a message

What quarry?

I video call him back (For some reason that is the only way I can hear anybody on my phone). I see Aubs looking hot and flustered. He says:

I think you’ve gone the wrong way. You were supposed to continue down the highway. The Karamu walkway is closed because of lambing season. You were supposed to continue down the highway.

He then reads me the exact message on a different trail app. I’m a bit stunned. I can’t conceive of going back. I’ve already climbed such a long way. I’m almost at the walkway. I tell Aubs he will have to leave it with me. That I’ll sort something out. That I’ll see him at the homestead tonight. And we hang up.

I stand for a bit, unsure. Decide I might as well keep going for now. That I might have to risk it. I reach the walkway. I can see a big “Walkway Closed” sign hanging from the fence. I also see a big crew of road workers milling about near the top. I feel defeated and decide I might as well approach them to ask for advice, or even a ride back to the highway. I was glad I did. Picture this conversation (in a broad kiwi Maori accent):

You are a hiker are you? Enjoying your hike?

Well….yes. But now I see the closed sign and I think I have stuffed up.

Before you get all blue about it, I suggest going over there and having a look at the fine print on that sign. Go and have a look! Read the fine print! You’re good!

I go and have a look. And indeed, the knowledgeable Maori fellow is right…the sign says the walk is closed between the 1st of August and 30th September….a date we have now passed. Without knowing what to do I ask the person who seems to know the most. What should I do?

Go! Go and enjoy your hike! The lambs were born ages ago. You’ll be fine. It’s all good!

With limited options, I choose to believe in this guy. I climb the fence. I’m not going to write a tonne of stuff about the Kamaru Walkway, because I honestly still don’t know if I was allowed to be there or not. I will say however, that, rightly or wrongly, it was awesome.

Lunch break. I did get a message from Aubs here that said “This is the most dangerous road walk I have ever done”. I tried not to feel guilty.

On the other side, I came to our accommodation for the night. I could see Aubs on the verandah of what looked to be a hiker hut. Poor Aubs. He had had an awful day, fighting traffic and literally fearing for his life. I felt terrible about my naughty girl good fortune. To top things off, just after everything had been unpacked we encountered Lucia, who informed us we were in the wrong cabin. We were henceforth to pack up and move to the backpacker bunk room.

Hidden behind a car and an old wooden door lay an old milking shed with a few beds thrown inside. The bin was full and the place was just…pretty dim. We soon met Pastor Stu, who entered the hut, gave me a beer, sat on the one reasonable seat (with Aubs trying to shave in the background), kicked off his gumboots, twisted off his bottle cap, threw it onto the floor, and proceeded to regale us with stories about his pastor services for the prisons and police. I must admit that I thought he may have been having us on…aren’t pastors supposed to be better at listening than talking. An hour or two later, beers drunk, he left. None the wiser about either Aubs or I. A pretty crazy day.

Right…now to add to things, my keyboard has died. So once again in NZ, I’m back to typing on my phone. Why Te Araroa??!!! Why do you hate me so?

The next morning I knew something was wrong. My throat felt like little knives were cutting it. Cut, cut, cut. I tried to put it down to the plethora of dust mites I had been inhaling in the dusty barn all night. Breakfast was had. With Pastor Stu. This time we heard about his recent operations. On departure, Aubs was made to try fingertip chin ups on the door frame. We watched the Pastor succeed in a few. Aubs, not so much. But at least he tried. We left quickly and thankfully, grateful for the stay, but feeling a little bit like we’d been conned at the same time.

My throat starting feeling worse. Thinking about the day ahead, a huge day of climbing up the Pirongia range, didn’t help. I told Aubs to push ahead. I needed to be in my own head space. I would be slow, slow, slow. Things started ok. Fairly flat, with an insight into the ravages that recent floods have borne on the area, with huge trees uprooted and debris several metres deep lining the banks of the river.

Once we started going up, things got real for me. Up and up and up through beautiful forest, but my head was gone, focussed solely on every piercing breath which needed to be taken. Hours later, towards the top, the track devolved. More tree roots, step ups, slippery downhills and steeper uphills. My head was pounding and I felt feverish. Each step a mental push for focus and breath. Eventually, I half stumbled into camp. Aubs was there to greet me, and give me a very welcome hug. I felt spent.

The reward was an absolutely magical sunset with incredible views in all directions. Still, an early night for me.

The next day I felt worse. Not much sleep and now a blocked but runny nose. And brain fog. Massive brain fog. And I needed to get down this mountain. A quick look at the trail comments led me to believe this could be hell in hiking boots. Muddy and slippery. A number of commenters stated it had taken them up to nine hours to complete this challenge. Gulp…

Thankfully, it wasn’t as bad as that. A recent dry patch helped, and although muddy and slippery, I was able to hold my concentration and nerve and make my way down. I do confess to questioning myself…. I should be at home watching Netflix on the couch, or sleeping…Why am I doing this? Sometimes I do really wonder, why?

Aubs was waiting at the bottom and we took a small break before continuing on another 8km to our camp for the night. Aubs was once again dealing with the bank, so I continued on, making the most of the opportunity to put on a podcast and blow my nose time and time and time and time again.

I reached Jo’s Funny Farm. No joke. I wasn’t feeling that humerous by that time. I was, in fact, feeling absolutely sick and dead tired. My spirits were more than bouyed by meeting Pip the dog, and making my way into Jo’s comfy pad for hikers. With a bit of a rest I decided I would be better off setting up my tent, keeping my germs to myself, and letting Aubs have a good sleep indoors.

My favouritist friend on the trip so far, Pip.

LOL!! The night gave me no rest. I was in bed before dark and juuuusssttt as I was drifting off to sleep, Jo’s partner arrived home. The animals were fed and their satisfied chomping reined supreme. Lights went off and I once again settled back in. A cat, (whom I was later introduced to as Socks) snuck into the vestibule and started mewling. Socks left. Sleep approached. Morepork….morepork….morepork. Right in the tree above me. I asked her why, and all I got back was that she wanted to say hello. Hours later, an indignant duck quacked me from my restless slumber. All of that is to say, that I woke with slits for eyes and the world’s runniest nose. I wasn’t pretty.

It was a long morning of slow packup. Made all the more enjoyable talking to Jo, a true blue trail angel who does it because the service is needed and for nothing more. Feeling sorry for me, I was given a natural remedy to help flush me out. Not to be taken until I was resting at the end of day. With half open eyes, I set off.

Despite everything, it was an enjoyable day. Aubs and I are coming to an understanding around how we need to operate with our hiking, and things feel a lot smoother. It feels long, but the bush is nice and not particularly challenging…besides the mud of course!

We reach the camp site at the red shed of Pukari hut by around 3pm. There is a family there already, but I’m not up for mingling. I make camp away from the rest, take my magical elixir and fall to sleep.

Do not camp here for a while. That’s all I can say.

I wake much brighter eyed. Things are on the up! This has worked! A quick dinner and walk and I am back in bed. It starts to rain and I contentedly (though snuffelly) fall asleep to the world’s most luxurious sound.

Morning comes. I wake, feeling quite a lot better. The miracle cure has worked! But wait…what’s this! In an absolute panic I flee out of my sleeping bag and make it into the vestibule before my insides let go and I literally shit like hell. It’s like one of those cartoons where the character vomits way longer than they need to. But this was shitting. In a steady, steady stream until nothing more could be inside. Fucking hell. Is this a holiday? I make my coffee and get on with things. At least I’m feeling better. There’s nothing more I can do.

And so, finally my friends, we are headed into Waitomo and a rest. It is raining and drizzly all day, but not cold. The track is interesting. Absolutely lovely forest in parts and slippy, sloppy mud crevices in others. Aubs and I continue to get better at communicating our intent with a “you do you” philosophy.

We arrive in town and get into the accommodation. After all this snotty sickness and exploding cleansing I finally get a hot shower. It is bliss. A pub meal, a good sleep and things are back on track. For now anyway.

And you are all caught up!

Te Araroa Day 29: Tapakuna to Auckland 12km, (490km)

Of course it rained last night! Not to mention the hikers that rocked up at 9.00pm (after I had gone to bed!) who decided to pitch their tent right between Aubs and I, despite a large, green paddock. Or, the street light that blared all night long that was right above my tent…

BUT! To hell with all that! Because we made it! Goal achieved! We made it to Auckland!

With not far to go, we decided to splurge on a delicious breakfast at a bustling cafe right next to the caravan park. Meal consumed, it was on with the pack one last time and we were on our way.

I can confirm the HOSC was happier about his breakfast than he appears!

Despite being so close to Auckland, it was a really pleasant oceanside walk. Water lapping the outskirts of the beach at high tide. No matter the cause, we can’t seem to keep our feet dry!

Up and around a headland hosting a range of military relics and we can see it! The Devonport ferry terminal…and the end of our walk.

It hasn’t been an easy walk by any means. In fact, it’s been rather tough. There have been a range of factors making this so…of course the weather. A bit of rain is one thing, but unrelenting torrential storms closing tracks, flooding rivers and wreaking havoc has been hard. The rain leads to mud. And the mud at times has been awful. Awful and dangerous. What’s more, the difficulty of the mud has meant that some of the intended highlights of the North have been anything but…

And the highlights are important, because much of the original forested areas of the Te Araroa are now closed off due to Kauri dieback disease. Long stretches of walking, often on extremely busy, narrow tar to connect wild areas is the replacement. Not a great deal of fun. When you get there you want to enjoy the good stuff! Not worry about your imminent death by mud slide or a potential broken leg and helicopter rescue.

Lots of people too. A positive and a negative. We’ve met some really good ones. And some really bad. We’ve jostled for spots in the limited campgrounds and been the only walkers around for miles. The walkers ebb and flow. Friendships are forged quickly and can be over before they even have a chance to really begin.

That being said, once again, it’s the people that make it. The laughs and kindness. Generosity and caring. Provision of help when needed. It’s impossible to do this on your own.

And we saw some amazing things!! New Zealand is beautiful. And although we didn’t see it at its best, we are keen to come back and experience more!

And what was walking with somebody like? Different to what I expected. I thought I would really struggle with needing heaps of time on my own. But I didn’t. And there were plenty of times where having a partner proved incredibly beneficial. Whether it be as boredom relief on a long beach walk, providing moral support in dangerous situations, judging the best mansions, hoisting packs above the head on river crossings, talking, having a laugh, being a team. Experiencing a walk with Aubs was fantastic.

So the plan is we’ll be back next year to tackle some more. Discover more of New Zealand. Put ourselves to the test again. But before then, we’ll need to buy a heap of new gear…again!

Te Araroa Day 28: Orewa Bay to Takapuna 41.68km! (But only about 25 walked), (580km)

It was a day of mixed fortunes. Luckily for us, mostly in a positive way!

The rest at Orewa was just what the doctor ordered. Big breakfasts, beach walks without the burden of a heavy pack, long lunch complete with vino for me, icecream, snooze. And we were able to catch up with Pete, Nas and Daphne for a very enjoyable catch-up drink. When it’s getting you down, take a rest. That’s the motto of the story.

And so we left this morning in much higher spirits than when we arrived. A lovely walkway along an estuary before more of the dreaded road walking. A large verge along with our improved attitude meant it was a cinch.

We arrived at the turnoff to Stillwater, our intended destination for the evening, by mid morning. 7km to go. Sitting down to take a break, I made a quick scan of the hikers comments. “Avoid this road walk at ALL costs!” was the general gist. No point risking it. I stuck my thumb out and was rewarded one minute later, when the friendly Gareth pulled over in his brand new car, offering us a ride all the way to the caravan park. Sweet as!

Having arrived at the park by midday, we were planning a long afternoon spent rambling through the town and marina. That is, until I looked at the map and realised I had accidentally booked our accommodation in Auckland a whole day early!! There was no way we could make it in just one day….

A quick decision was made. We’d just keep walking. Get as far as we could….perhaps Browns Bay, and then get a taxi to where we were supposed to have been, the night before reaching Auckland. Slightly rattled, we set off again.

And this is where the magic happened! You see, part of this next section involves crossing a deep estuary. The only way it can be done, with any safety, is to cross right on the dot of low tide. That, or suffer delays and more road walking. As it was, had we stayed overnight, this is exactly what would have happened. In a stroke of great fortune however, this afternoon we got there bang on time!

And what a walk it was! A massive blue estuary, shrunk with the tide. Towering cliffs lining the banks. Rivulets of water pouring off them as a result of all the rain. And we nailed the crossing. Aubs went in first, sans pack to test the depth and current. Although chest height, we deemed it safe enough. Gear was stowed tightly. We crossed to the point it got deep before the HOSC swung his bag over his head and carefully made his way across. Once safe, he came back for mine. We both felt victorious to have achieved the crossing successfully. Like we had learnt from our mistakes and were ready for moving to the next section. It was a great feeling.

Trapped rain water at the estuary. We had to wade through this

The low, low tide we snagged through serendipity (and a mistake on my behalf!)

Feeling great after our crossing! (No photos of that…too tense!)

We made our way all the way to Browns Beach, at once admiring and despising the slew of expensive property along the coast. At Browns Bay, we ordered an Uber and 15 minutes later we were in Tapakuna. Easy as that! And we only missed 10km of walking. I can live with that.

One night to go. We have both decided to enjoy our last night in our tents, cooking on our gas stoves, before the adventure ends. I’m guessing it’ll probably rain!

Te Araroa Day 26: Dome Cafe to Puhoi, 28km (524km)

Nothing for it but to jump back on the cart right?

I slept fairly fitfully last night. It was a strange feeling lying in the half packed up cafe, sugar pots under the bench and menus still taped to the fridges. No curtains on the large glass doors, and adjacent to the night time trucks blaring their way along Highway One. Still, it felt like the most comfortable place on earth when the winds started raging, lightning crashed and rain ferociously lashed. Another outrageous storm.

The mood was slow and quiet in the morning as we contemplated what to do. Still raining, but supposed to dry up during the day. Possibly even some sunshine! We talk about taxis and other options, but in the end, we came here to walk, so that’s what we did.

It’s a long, but reasonably interesting day of walking. An uphill road walk to start. A patch of muddy bushland. Another road walk along a quiet, gravel road. This time with views over the valley. An “easy 1km tramping trail” which devolved into a 1 hour mud soaked slip and slide. Further road walking. A 1km section through a patch of lovely bushland full of tree ferns and palms. Paddock walking between spiky gorse bush and an electric fence. Luckily the fence was off!

Finally we reached the intersection with the Puhoi river track, a section I had been looking forward to in completing the day. A fresh sign on a wooden barrier tells us the area is currently closed due to logging. We are left to road walk the remaining four kilometres into town.

It’s a disappointing way to end the day. Though the disappointment could have been avoided if I’d read the track notes properly. Note to self, I’ll have to improve in keeping up with the alerts and closures next time…

To add to the disappointment, a phone call at lunch time had alerted us to the fact that we were no longer able to stay at our booked accommodation at the beautiful, old Puhoi Hotel. The town had been without power all day and they had decided to close. They had no suggestions for an alternative place to stay.

So it was, that by the time we arrived tired and worn out in Puhoi, we had made the decision to take a taxi to Orewa, book ourselves a couple of nights accommodation and take a break. This would mean skipping a 17km section of the trail, much of which was road walking along state highway one. I’m ok with that.

In a rare lucky boon, our mates Pete and Nas were waiting for us at the fish and chip shop in Puhoi when we arrived. Pete was being picked up by his wife Liz and offered us all a ride to Orewa. Perfect!!! Now we just need a place to stay. It’s a big city…this should be easy right?! Wrong!! We rang and rang and rang. Must have tried 15 different motels and caravan parks to discover they were all booked out for the night. The backpackers “Pillows” rated 4.5 / 10 was the only place with a bed. Desperate, we stayed the night.

This place deserves its rating. My room is…ok. Aubs room is the “worst he has ever stayed in”. We’ve got an alternative place for tonight. Hopefully it won’t have old blokes standing around drinking at 10am and rat shit in the shower.

So this afternoon we’ll be resting in our lush accommodation and planning the last of our trip. Just two more days of walking and we’ll be in Auckland. That’s the plan anyway!